On TV shows, and in a lot of movies, people have things that nobody has in real life.
For instance, on TV, some guy comes home from work, opens the fridge and gets out a beer. But nobody has a fridge full of beer waiting for them when they come home from work. Because in real life they’ve already drunk all the beer.
Another example is horses. I’ve seen loads of TV shows where people have horses. But in real life people don’t have horses. Where would they keep them while they are at work? In the bicycle rack? In designated parking spots? In a little paddock by the fax machine and the photocopier? No. It’s just fiction.
And then there are those weird little nose-hair trimmers you see on TV. Why the hell would anyone own a buzzing, bladed piece of hardware designed to be shoved in one’s own facial orifices? What kind of freak would have such a thing? I was convinced that no real person’s bathroom cabinet contains such a horror…
Until Miss-Matic found one.
She brought it home the other day, with a bounce in her step and an excited grin across her face.
‘Guess what I’ve got!’ she demanded.
I sat up, hopeful. ‘Is it a kitten?’
‘Oh.’ My face fell. ‘Can I eat it?’
‘Um… Is it alcoholic?’
I sat back. ‘Then I don’t care.’
She took something vaguely sexual out of her bag and brandished it like She-Ra preparing her vibrator. ‘It’s a NOSE HAIR TRIMMER!’
I gave her my best baleful look, because I could see where this was going.
‘A nose hair trimmer!’ she repeated.
I used my best unimpressed tone. ‘What.’
‘A nose hair trimmer!’
‘I’m going to try it out!’
‘Have fun. Try not to hurt yourself.’
‘But first,’ she beamed, ‘I’m going to use it on you!’
‘No, you’re not,’ I stated, with what I hoped was Morgan Freeman-like authority.
‘Yes I am!’ she grinned.
‘No, you’re not.’ I squinted threateningly, like Clint Eastwood.
‘Yes I am,’ she smirked.
‘No, you’re not.’ I said, setting my jaw like Sylvester Stallone.
Miss-Matic gave me that ‘I have an ace-in-the-hole’ smile. ‘I’ll ██████ your ██████ with my ██████?’ she proposed.
‘Okay,’ I said.
She then proceeded to jump on top of me, and shoved the device up my nose.
‘Um,’ I said. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’
‘Too late,’ she said, and yanked the starter cord.
‘Aaaaagh!! I’ve changed my mind!’
My wriggles and squirms were becoming too much for Miss-Matic to handle, so she put her knees on my wrists to pin me down, and continued to subject me to this unauthorised grooming.
‘Wait… Did you just say LOL?’
Soon she was done. I felt violated. I cried.
‘Hang on… I missed a bit…’
And that’s how I found out that the darkest horrors of the human imagination don’t just exist in fiction, and that Miss-Matic is even more sadistic than I’d realised. She tried to console me afterwards with videos of cats, but they didn’t help.
But on the bright side…
Can’t think of anything.